


Burning the Past

by Valkyra (khepur)



Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khepur/pseuds/Valkyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reflecting on the past, the re-emergence of Fang dredges up many unpleasant - and unwanted - memories for Gazzy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burn

**Author's Note:**

> VERY old little work right here. Two-years old. Ick.

The rain was thick and steady, but he knew the house would burn. He'd lined it with enough explosives to be sure of that.

Gazz stood alone, watching the dark, empty house. He'd lived here for much of his twenty-four years, back when he was known by his nickname of Gazzy, and after Fang had left the Flock.

Max had been so broken. It had taken her forever to recover, and even then she was sometimes a little unstable. But she'd continued to lead them fearlessly, if not a little more cautiously. But it was the head injury just two years later that had left her in a coma for too long, and when she'd awoken, she was never the same. Partial amnesia can do that to a person, especially when that someone was already too damaged to really function in the first place.

Dylan had burnt himself out trying to heal her. Gazz curled his lip; they knew he wouldn't've been able to do a thing, but it was either let Dylan go down trying or leave him with a future devoid of his sole purpose, the reason for his very _creation_. 

What they'd let Dylan do was merciful. 

It didn't stop Angel from taking her turn as leader, anways. Stepping gracefully into the role, she led them almost as well as Max, if not more ambitiously. Gazz had just been settling into a comfortable routine, almost as happy as when Max had been in charge, when the unthinkable happened.

Iggy was killed.

It was during a risky mission, one that only Angel could have dreamt up and had enough pride to think that they could pull off.

She miscalculated the odds.

Iggy lost his life because of it.

The older boy's death broke Angel more than anything else. It was her fault; _she_ was responsible. If she hadn't planned it, Iggy would still have been alive.

Even distraught as he was, Gazz could tell Angel was far off worse. But he couldn't comfort her. Any attempt to get close was met with resistance, and eventually he had to back off. He locked away the hurt in his heart, replacing it with a coldness that wasn't like him, usually. He became a soldier, a brutal warrior even at his young age.

And then Nudge had left, weary of the fighting and bloodshed. She had her own dreams, her own future, and the Flock wasn't a part of it.

Gazz tried not to hold it against her. He'd probably have done the same, if he'd had a similar motivation. But he still felt bound by blood to Angel, even if she refused to speak to him alone anymore. He wanted to bet there for her, more so than he'd been as a child. She needed it. He needed it, too, if he was ever brave enough to admit it.

He'd stuck by her, trying to re-establish their bond and help her and provide for them all at the same time. It wasn't always happy, but it was something.

And then it all shattered.

Angel left.

She told Gazz to take care of Max, and took off, never looking back. The last Gazz had heard of her was two years ago; she'd been someplace in Africa.

So that left Gazz, just eighteen, alone with a comatose former-leader and an empty house. For six years, Gazz had been alone with the silent Max and the aging Akila. Total had passed on long ago. He'd tried not to hate Angel too much for it all, and eventually that anger turned to sorrow, and then to cold resignation.

For six years, Gazz had trained himself, forced himself to grow up. He'd fought the bad guys on his own, and had walked away from all those battles with a better knowledge of what he could handle.

He wasn't stupid. He only took on what he knew he would survive. Leave the risky stuff for the people who wanted to die – or those couldn't understand the cost.

He'd turned himself into a modern-day superhero. More of a vigilante, really. Except the police didn't mind the help, so they didn't try to get rid of him every chance they got. He'd helped a lot of people. And a lot of people knew it.

Itex had stopped hunting him because of it. He'd grown too popular with the public. If he'd been killed, everyone would know who did it. Itex would lose investors, stock, money, _everything_. They'd be charged with murder.

So Gazz had gone to them, and struck a deal. He didn't expose the past horrifying actions that Itex had taken, experiments with children, and everything else, and Itex would stop the experiments on humans. They would go back to using rats, which Gazz figured would suck for the rats, but he did what he had to.

And just like that, Itex became a better company. The Director had been fired, and a new one put in her place. The new Director respected Gazz. There weren't any problems. Everything was fixed.

Jeb had come to Gazz, praising him for saving the world and managing to keep everything at peace. Gazz hadn't even looked at him.

Gazz hadn't saved the world.

Max had.

Max had inspired him, taught him good from evil, showed him how to have compassion for the enemy, made him who he was.

In a way, Max had saved the world. Just like everyone had said she would.

Now he ran a hand through cropped blond hair, giving the dark house one last look before he strode away.

He didn't turn back when the house imploded on itself. He didn't stop to watch as the fires roared higher, burned hotter, and consumed what was left of his broken home.

Now he was on his own.

Gazz was alone in the world. Except…

The lean young man turned his head minutely to watch the shadows, his broad wings tense and ready. He was ready to slip back into his mercenary-mode when a figure stepped from the shadows. Gazz leaned back with a hateful hiss.

The man watched him with weary eyes. Neither spoke, until…

"Gazzy?"

Gazz huffed out a breath and eased out of his fighting stance. "That's not my name anymore… Fang."

The raven-haired man took a step back at the venom in Gazz's voice, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Sorry, I forgot. Should I call you the Feathered Fighter? The Winged Warlord? Or maybe just Captain Terror?"

Gazz ignored the jibe and moved off. "Leave me alone."

"You can't just walk away."

"Watch me."

"Gazzy." The tone was suddenly serious.

" _Stop calling me that_!"

"Listen –"

"Helluva time to tell me to do that, _traitor_."

Fang lunged forwards. "Gazzy, listen to me!"

Gazz sidestepped the blow and let Fang stumble forwards. "You're out of practice."

"And _you're_ out of line!" Fang hissed.

Gazz stood tense and ready, studying the man he once thought of as a father-figure. "You're telling me I'm out of line? At least I stuck around with my family! At least I didn't run off with the clone of my best friend!"

Fang lunged for him again. "Shut up!"

"Make me!" Gazz swung his leg beneath Fang's knees, making the older mutant's legs buckle and knocking him to the ground. In a flash he was on top of him, knife gleaming at Fang's throat. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gut you like a fish right here."

Fang was heaving for breath by now, what with the rush of fighting and now Gazz's weight on his chest, but he managed to choke out, "What would Max think?"

Gazz didn't even flinch, cold as ice. "Max is dead."

Fang went limp beneath him.

Gazz ignored the look on Fang's face, a look that made his own heart throb. "She died two days ago. Akila went with her. Total's been dead for three years. Iggy's been dead three times as long. Angel's halfway around the world, and Nudge is the richest fashion designer in Paris. So where've you been, huh?" He gave Fang a quick shake, knife edge pressing into his throat. "How come I know where everyone else was these past fourteen years, but not you? Where'd you shack up with that traitor clone, huh?"

"Shut it." Fang's voice was weak. His eyes were bright, and he was staring past Gazz, up at the sky and smoke and flames. "Shut it. I didn't know. I just… I didn't know."

"Yeah. Funny how not being around does that to someone." Gazz couldn't keep the venom out of his voice.

Fang finally looked at him. "It's not what you think."

"Whatever." Gazz moved off of him, sheathing the knife and turning his back.

"I didn't want to leave."

"That's real convincing."

"It's the _truth_."

"Says _you_." Gazz barked a laugh. "And just look how much your word's worth."

Fang stared at him. "What happened to you?" He asked suddenly. "What happened to that sweet little kid who was everyone's best friend, and always wanted to make people laugh?"

Something in Gazz snapped, more than ten years of pain rushing forth, and Gazz lunged for Fang, catching him off guard and slamming him against a tree. "I grew up!" Gazz screamed furiously. "I had to become an adult the minute you left. I had to grow up too fast, because you ditched us and Max was a mess. And then I had to grow up some more because _Max just couldn't get over you_. She got obsessed with finding you, and then she let herself get kicked in the head, and then she was in a freaking coma for _four years._ And during that Angel got her turn as leader, and she made a mistake, and Iggy was killed.

"So then I had to grow up again, and suck it up, and keep going. And then Nudge decided she was done, and she left, _just like you_. And then Angel decided to pull the same stunt. So then I was alone, with an old dog and a girl who didn't even remember her own name half the time. I was _alone_ , Fang, barely even an adult and freaking _alone_! I've been on my own for six years, and I've _survived_ , because _I grew up_. I faced my problems, Fang; I didn't run from them. I faced them and beat them and survived." He gave Fang one last, fierce shake, and dropped him, eyes narrowed. "Can you say the same?"

The older man didn't move or speak; he just stared at his hands mutely, breath rattling in his throat. Gazz snorted angrily. "That's what I thought."

He turned to storm off, but something kept stopping him. Memories, maybe. Childish hope, or adoration, or something. He heaved a sigh, settling his wings against his back, and looked over his shoulder at the man he once called his mentor. "Fang…"

The dark-haired man didn't look up. "I didn't mean to."

It took Gazz a second to process the words. "Huh?"

"I didn't mean to," Fang repeated, clenching and unclenching his hands. "I was angry and hurt and stupid, and I ran off. I thought… I was convinced that I was the problem, and that if I stayed with the Flock, I'd put everyone in danger. I was trying to keep you all safe." He shuddered out a sigh. "After the first few weeks I wanted to go back, but then I met Maya. It was so… so strange. Like I was seeing Max and a stranger, all at the same time. I… she distracted me. I wanted to help her. I tried, too, and then she convinced me that she needed me more, and that Max had Dylan, and that I was a still a danger to them. I… I believed her."

Gazz was as still as stone. "That's no excuse."

Fang's shoulder slumped. "I know. But that's how it happened. I stayed with her, and helped anybody who needed it, and Maya was happy. I don't know if I was happy, or just numb. Maybe both. But it was something other than sadness, so I guess I just accepted it. And then Maya died a few years ago." Fang covered his eyes with his hands. "I've been wandering ever since. I just wanted to see Max, one last time, before…before…"

Quiet and cold, Gazz watched the man he once called unshakable, unbeatable, break down before his eyes. It seemed… wrong, unnatural for this to be happening. His childhood memories showed a strong, firm leader. His anger colored that man a coward, weak. Right now, he could only see that same man as broken.

It hurt more than it should have.

There was a long silence, and Gazz contemplated his options, weighed the outcomes, and chose.

"I'll take you to her grave."

* * *

The air around them was quiet, twisted with fog and trees. Fang was hesitant, but Gazz strode forwards fearlessly. He knew this part of the mountain by heart; he'd found it, with Angel, when they were younger, before the Erasers had found them and their life had fractured. Gazz allowed himself a small smile. Those were happier times.

Before them, the trees broke out into a clearing, and the fog cleared a little in the open air. This time it was Gazz who faltered. Fang drew up beside him, wings shifting nervously.

"This is it?" He asked shortly.

Gazz nodded once, and Fang pushed his way forwards. The younger man watched his elder counterpart stumble around in the fog for a few minutes, until suddenly Fang stopped and stared down.

With a long-suffering sigh, Gazz picked his way over to Fang's side, looking down at the headstone solemnly. Two smaller ones sat next to it, but Gazz knew they were just for show. He'd buried Total and Akila in the same grave.

Fang barely spared a glance for the smaller headstones. His eyes were trained on the largest. Gazz knew he was trying to ignore the mound of fresh dirt at its base.

"It wasn't bad," he said suddenly, startling Fang – and himself.

Fang's dark eyes darted between him and the grave, a question stirring in their depths.

Gazz gritted his teeth against his own emotions – those dang, stupid feelings of trust and loyalty that started stirring once he actually saw Fang's sorry, traitorous face in person again – but he continued on anyway. "Her last few weeks. They weren't so bad. She had me, and Akila. Nudge came to visit one last time, but she left right away." Gazz dropped his gaze for a moment, murmuring, "I couldn't get in touch with Angel."

Fang was silent a moment, and then –

"She knows. She always does."

Gazz let his shoulders fall and drop. "Yeah. I guess." He cleared his throat, surprised at the tightness he felt there, and continued. "Max was… coherent most of the time. Other times she would talk to people who weren't there. Jeb, Ari, her mom… and you."

Fang looked at him in surprise, but Gazz rushed on, trying to race ahead of his heart. "In the end, all she did was tell me how much she was proud of me, and how sorry she was for everything. That, and… she kept asking for you." Gazz's eyes closed, forcing back the tears that were threatening to break through. "That was the last thing she said, your name… over and over and over again, like you were just going to show up and save her and make everything better." Gazz shook his head once, fiercely, and he felt a wetness on his face that he knew wasn't rain. "Over and over… she was crying and then she just stopped and stared up and said your name and then… and then…"

He broke off, and suddenly there were arms around him, not as strong or steady as he remembered, but still familiar. Gazz pressed his face into Fang's shoulder and wept.

For a long time they stood there, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gazz felt equal parts shame and comfort – here he was, a grown man, crying like a child in front of another. His heart didn't care. He was soothed, and he was content for the moment.

He pulled away, swiping at his face and looking away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Fang shook his head. "No. Don't be." His eyes closed momentarily. "I'm the one who should say sorry."

Both of them knew they were talking about more than what had just happened.

Gazz shifted his shoulders, feeling more at ease than he had in years. The heavy weight on his shoulders was gone, replaced by… what? Happiness? Comfort? Relief?

No, it was simpler than that. Gazz knew this feeling… he just hadn't felt it in years.

As he followed the man he had once thought of as a father, and now as a brother, out of the graveyard, Gazz let the peace of the night wash over him. He let himself smile, if only a little.

It felt nice.


	2. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is where I left it two years ago. Still can't decide if it's worth finishing.

Gazz was flying blind, his eyes nearly shut against the roaring rain. Fang was just behind him, vainly trying to wipe the water from his eyes so he could at least attempt to see. The wind was with them, however, so they made quick progress.

Despite the less than ideal conditions, and the fact that it was night, Gazz felt oddly calm. The act of flying in itself was something he enjoyed, but now that there was someone with him? Gazz was almost giddy. It had been so long since he'd had company on a flight – and that's all it really was. Just company. Gazz's mood died down a bit.

Company was someone that was a stranger – someone Gazz would have to understand and fight beside and lose a little blood with before he trusted him.

The fact that it was Fang just made everything more difficult.

That little peaceful feeling in his gut wasn't helping much, either. Did he trust Fang, or not? Could he trust him? Would he?

Gazz pushed the frustrating thoughts from his mind and angled his wings down, heading for the familiar lights below him. Fang was a heartbeat behind, obviously unsure about why they were stopping, and where. When he landed, Gazz shrugged.

"Rain's too thick tonight," he said shortly. "Monsoon season, freak winds, that sort of thing."

Fang nodded a little at that explanation, but eyed the building in front of them with apprehension. "But a diner?"

Gazz shrugged again. "I like this place." He pushed open the glass door, knocking the mud off his boots before he entered. Fang hesitated for a moment, but quickly followed. Gazz had to hide a grin. It seemed even fearless Fang wouldn't risk staying outside in the storm alone.

Twenty minutes and five hamburgers later, Gazz was more sleepy than anything. He hid a yawn behind his milkshake. It was one of his rules: never show weakness in front of unknown people. It had bluffed him out of more tight spots than he cared to remember. After all, strangers were people he didn't know, and couldn't trust.

Even if said stranger had raised him till age eight…

Gazz was so wrapped up in his own conflicting thoughts that he didn't hear Fang until the third shoulder shake.

"…Gazz?" Fang snapped his fingers in front of Gazz's face. The twenty-four year-old's head snapped up, blinking wearily.

"Huh? What?"

Fang studied him critically. "You were... drifting off. You had the look on your face that Max had whenever she was talking to the Voice."

Irritation at the words flooded through him, Gazz ground his teeth together. "Sorry," he muttered, "but I don't have a Voice. Only Max did. Maybe Angel, but she never told me. She stopped talking to me along time ago."

"Ah." Fang was quiet after that, and the two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Gazz played with the lid of his drink, eyes flitting between the table and the storm raging outside. It irked him that Fang could still talk about Max so casually. Like she was still alive. Like he hadn't ever left.

Gazz could barely think about Max without his throat closing up.

Finally, Fang broke the tension. "Um... Gazz," he started, sounding unsure and hesitant. "I have a… a question."

"Shoot," Gazz said, without humor.

Fang swallowed dryly. "You said that Iggy was dead, right?"

The cup lid crumpled in Gazz's hand.

"Where's his grave?"

Time slowed, and picked back up again. Gazz released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, a myriad of emotions flitting through him. Anger, hurt, sorrow. He didn't want to remember this – he'd locked it away a long time ago, and now Fang had the gall to bring it back up? Gazz cursed all the deities he could think of. He should have never stayed with Fang, he should have left the minute he saw him, he should have told him to leave and never return – but most of all, he should have known that Fang would have questions.

"It's… it's a long story," he said finally.

Fang flashed him the slightest of unhappy grins. "I've got all the time in the world."

Gazz barked a laugh. "Yeah, right. That's what he thought, too."

"Who?" Fang's voice was hesitantly curious. 

"Iggy."


End file.
